I am currently experimenting with Wordpress as a publishing option and have “sucked in” two of my Blogs - “Windmills of my Minds” and My Daily Project 365. Take a look and sign in to keep updated... PHOTOSBYRALLENHILL. There is a META box on the bottom right hand side where the first option is Register. It allows you to comment, and I believe get email updates - more on that later...
Daniel Mason, my newest grandson, has been cast in his 1st theatre production. He was born on the 7th of November and has been cast as the "baby Jesus" in a live Nativity in Corraville, Iowa. It will be fun to watch him grow and see what he becomes...the other 6 grandchildren provide as much entertainment and keep us guessing. We may have musicians, scientists, inventors, gymnists, artists - who knows? It's fun to watch...
I apologize for the new Comment Controls on this blog, but I have been getting spammed by a Japanese Porn Site. I removed the post it was consistently appearing on (in excess of 50 times) and have instituted a new comment process where after you use the "funky" word thing I will have to approve the comments before they appear. I will delete all Japanese Porn messages!!!
July 13, 1915 to October 22, 2009
I had to attend a credit union meeting in Des Moines today and on the way home I felt an over-whelming urge to stop in Iowa Falls. We had put my mother in Hospice a couple of weeks ago, and as I was returning to Waterloo this afternoon I wasn’t going to stop in Iowa Falls because I had a board meeting to attend – but I felt compelled to stop.
When I arrived at the nursing home I could tell that my mother was in her final stages. I sat with her about 10 minutes and at the encouragement of my youngest daughter (via phone) I took her hand and told my mom it was ok to go. I told her to make sure to say hi to Uncle Oliver (he died 2 weeks ago), to Dad and to Jesus...she took one more breath and was gone.
I believe 4 things (1) there was Divine Intervention in my urge to visit Iowa Falls, (2) my Mother was waiting for me to tell her it was ok to go, (3) there was a flock of people waiting to meet her in heaven and (4) my last words to her were, “Say hi to Jesus.” And she promptly delivered the message.
It’s been a long week and a very long day. We will be having her services on October 31st – yes, Halloween. It’s All Saints Day plus my mother loved to dress up for Halloween – when I was younger I sometimes think she enjoyed Halloween more than the kids. So – next week remember Virginia when the Goblins come calln’ at your house...one of those ghosts - you never know...
My Uncle Oliver passed away a week ago. He was 89 years old. He had been doing some yard work and had bumped a wasp nest and they subsequently stung him over 40 times.
He went to the hospital and because of the stress caused by the wasps he had a heart attack and passed shortly thereafter. The funeral was held Saturday, October 10th, 2009. He was not the first Uncle or Aunt to pass, but it is the first time in quite some time that all of the 1st cousins have been together and it was great catching up on 40 some years. The picture is where we are waiting to have our picture taken.
So, what does that all that have to do with "Right Baby"? When I was young I had 2 dolls and I had called one "Right Baby" and the other one had come to be called "Wrong Baby". Ann, one of my cousins, remembered those dolls, as they had once been hers (something I just learned) and asked me, "Bobby, why did you called one of those dolls "Right Baby" and the other one "Wrong Baby"?
"Did you love one more than the other?"
It seems she had thought about this every once in awhile over the last 40 years. Ann and her sister Judy Lee frequently took care of me when I was little. Their Mother, Aunt Mildred, kept me supplied in comic books. I was a sickly kid and spent a good portion of the 4th grade in and out of the hospital. Aunt Mildred would visit me frequently, especially when my Mother couldn't get into town. And ever time she came she came loaded with comic books and I guess at some point in time the "Babies" came into my possession. Both babies did well and I loved them both the same.
"No, Ann, that wasn't it at all. I was sick one day and threw up on one of the dolls and she started to smell so I called her "Wrong Baby". It didn't matter how much my mother cleaned the doll she still carried that stigma [and smell] of puke with her. I ostrazied her and made her sleep at the foot of the bed and when all of the other dolls and stuffed animals were having a party she was never invited. She had to sleep at the foot of the bed."
"Oh..." Ann seemed a bit disappointed, but was glad the mystery had been solved for her.
I still have "Right Baby", "Wrong Baby" has long since passed.
"Right Baby" is the ugliest doll I have ever seen and she curretly resides in a box with her head wrapped in plastic (her head started to melt several years ago). I won't be taking her picture as I want to remember her as she was before her head started to melt.
I was speechless and flabbergasted last night. I was at Target and had to by some canned air to dust off my keyboards and screens. Upon check-out the girl asks, "May I see your ID Please?"
"My ID?," I ask, "For what?"
"The air, sir."
"The air. You're kidding right?"
"No, sir, I need to see your ID.
She then made me take my license out of my billfold, she looked at it and then scanned it into their system.
Still speechless (or at least nearly), I managed to ask her what this is all about. It seems that people buy air to get high and that the state law enforcement authorities track those who buy air to make sure they are not buying an exorbitant amount.
I have never heard of such a thing. I have for meth ingredients, but air? How do you get high on air? Can't you just take a deep breath and be high on life? I don't get it...
So, what about the air hose at the gas station? Do people addicted to air sneak into the station in the middle of the night and stuff the hose up their nose? I don't think I have ever read about anyone busted for possesson of air?
Bicker...bicker...bicker...that's all I hear about health care reform. They said, he said, she said...bicker...bicker...bicker.
In his morning homily today our priest suggested that the health care debate could be settled by the teaching, "..the last shall be first and the first shall be last." I have thought about what he suggested all day and that is if the voters could (sadly we cannot), vote to suspend all of the Senators and Representatives Health Care Plans they could experience life without health insurance. It just might be an impetus for them to move faster. It seems alot of them are getting up there in years and are probably taking a ton of medication for a variety of ailments. If they had to worry about how to pay the bill, perhaps their sense of urgency would be faster.
The congress should listen to the adage, "...walk a mile in my mocassions...". They should visit a Walmart, or a Walgreens pharmacy and observe the people who have to make a choice - do I eat or do I buy medicine? I've witnessed an elderly man choose - eat, because he couldn't pay the cost of the prescription.
Perhaps the congress should also visit an emergency room and observe all of the people who use these facilities as their "primary" caregiver, because they do not have insurance. Stop the line of people who are testifying before comittee, after committee and go out and stand in line in an emergency room.
Both the Republicans and Democrats agree that something needs to be done. However, (isn't there always a however?) each party is so busy "defending" their point of view that they are not aware of the people who have very real medical insurance needs.
My message to the Congress - don't use your health care plan until you come up with a plan for everyone. Plus, each member of congress should go to an ER on a Friday night and sit and watch. Dress down so no one knows who you are and just watch.
As my grandmother used to say to me, "Come now, get busy!!"
I had dinner this evening in a Boston's Restaurant in Coralville, Iowa. While I was in the restroom (a nice remodeled restroom) I noticed that someone had scrated their initials into the top if the urinal. I guess I have a couple of questions: (1) Why? and, (2) What were they thinking - that they'd gain some sort of urinal fame? Well, Mr. SU and Mr. MR you have found fame on the internet...
I've been attending the Minnesota State Fair for years and have always been impressed with "Minnesota Nice". This year, however, was "Minnesota Rude". I was pushed, pulled, bumped, prodded, and cursed at. Perhaps the economy and national health care debate has everyone on edge and grouchy - but, hey, no need to be rude. Being nice is easier
Be careful when you order a plain cheesburger at Wendy's. My wife ordered a plain cheesburger, "Plain cheeseburger, just bread meat and cheese. And a diet coke please."
I sure don't know what the cook was thinking when he made a "plain" CHEESEburger without the cheese...? Am I wrong - doesn't that make it a plain hamburger?
We had a great 40th Reunion July 3-5 filled with a lot of activities. We started Friday with a sit down dinner, followed by a dance that broke up at 1:00 AM Saturday (it nearly killed me to stay up so late). There was a Silent Auction where posters and mementos from the the 60s were auctioned and we raised nearly $2,000 for our Memorial Arboretum Project. On Saturday we had a memorial service in memory of our 14 fallen classmates which touched the hearts of everyone who attended. There was not a dry eye in the place. I heard the service described as the "heart and Soul" of our reunion. We had lunch at the Princess Cafe in downtown Iowa Falls, took a walking tour from the Old High school to downtown, and toured the new museum housed in the old Carnegie library. We then had a wine and cheese tasting party follwed by viewing the Iowa Falls fireworks from the best place on the river. Sunday morning we took a cruise on the Iowa River enjoying a great view with perfect weather. After the cruise we had a picnic in Foster Park where again we ate and had a chance to visit with our classmates. Our next reunion is in 5 years and it will probably take me that long to recover...
My 40th Class Reunion is coming up this weekend and somewhere between the 35th Reunion and now I managed to find myself on the defacto planning committee. It has been a great experience. The committee has grown close over the last 2 years and while we knew each other in high school, we were not close. We are now close.
During our planning stages what has surprised me the most are the grudges and hidden feelings some of our fellow classmates still carry after 40 years. I've got to say - we are not the same people we were 40 years ago, we have grown, and we have cool stories to tell.
During our planning an idea was floated that we should do something to remember our deceased classmates. The short version is that after discussing and cussing several ideas we ended up arranging a sponsorship of a walking Arboretum at the Calkins Nature Center in Iowa Falls. The Hardin County Conservation people picked out and planted and will care for our trees. It will be designed so that over time all of our 159 classmates will have a memorial tree - a living tribute to the memory of the Iowa Falls Class of 1969.The response from families has been nothing short of amazing and we expect a large attendance on Saturday morning as we remember our classmates. I'll probably be an emotional wreck.
One short story here - we have been soliciting donations from the class and have been successful in raising funds (need to raise more funds so that number 159 has a tree) but people are giving from their heart. One of our classmates who is down on their luck, has been saving money so that they could give. He who had little - gave much -
So, what does that have to do with the photograph? We are staying with one of the committee members in Clear Lake making our final battle plans - and this was the view last night. I'll have additional observations so stayed tuned...
We went to a picnic a couple of weeks ago and I caught this moment where a Grandpa is explaining the finer points of throwing a football to his Grandson. I'm envious of the moment (from the grandson point of view) because when I was growing up I did not have a Grandpa that was capable of passing along his "secrets". My Grandpa on my Father's side was long gone before I was born and my Mother's father was either unwilling or unable to relate to a child.
I have a few memories of my grandfather - the smell of tobacco from his pipe, the fact that he had lost 2 fingers on the farm - and that he didn't talk much.
Grandmothers on the other hand - taught me alot - not one of them showed me how to throw a football, but if I ever need to darn a sock - I'm there!!!
This building is in Williams, Iowa. Up the street from here is the Methodist church where I attended as a kid. The building is currently a small store, has a few groceries, has a few antiques, plus you can buy ice cream (that much hasn't changed in 40 years).
I have a vivid memory of getting in trouble here when I was 5 or 6. I had been fussy in church and my grandmother brought me here and bought me an ice cream cone. Now, the lesson she taught me was that if I don't want to sit in church, all I have to do is be fussy and I'll get to leave and get a treat. Lesson learned...
The following week I tried out what I had learned from my grandmother on my mother... well, the getting out of church part worked, but as soon as we hit the outdoors - SWAT on my behinder!!! New lesson learned - you can get away with more with grandmothers than mothers...
A beautiful sky...
I often wonder if educators understand just how long of an effect they can have on a student?
Tonight I went to my grand daughter Ania's concert at her middle school. It was an excellent middle school concert. There was one young lady who had a solo and it was one of those moments that when she opened her mouth - it made you sit up, listen closer and ask yourself, "... did that come out of her?" An excellent voice - she will be a singer one day. I digress - educators.
I had a high school music teacher, Mr. Eugene Havercamp who not only taught music but gave private lessons as well. I was in both his choir and took voice lessons. As I was watching the young kids tonight I could hear his voice in my head, "You can't sing with your mouth closed. Open up!!"
I can hear his voice to this day and have thought of him frequently during the last 40 some years whenever I observed someone trying to sing with their mouth closed. When I was singing in church or in a choir I could hear him tell me, "...breath from your diaphram...let it out slow." 40 years and I still follow his directions
Mr Havercamp was killed in an auto accident several years ago and I regret not having had the opportunity to have told him he helped me to sing a good song (with my mouth open).
My 40th class reunion is coming up in July and I'm sorta on the committee. We have been inviting all of the teachers we can find to attend as our guest. Why? So we can share our successes and lessons learned and to say thanks... except for that one time...
I want to be cremated when it is my time to pass from this earth. Now, I don't dwell on the subject, but on occasion the thought does cross my mind. The first time I remember thinking about cremation was from a Hill Street Blues Episode when a retired cop had died, was cremated and wanted to be part of "something". Andy, one of the lead characters, brought his ashes into the building one night as the locker room was being re-done and mixed him in with the cement. He was part of the building forever...
The next time I thought about being cremated was when I had heard a story about retired sailors having their ashes put into a keel of a ship as it was being built. So - the idea formed in my head... I want to be part of something. But, what?
For a while I thought I'd be a brick. Yes, a brick. There is a Veteran's Memorial in Waterloo where you can have your name and rank engraved on a brick and have the brick placed as part of the monument. Now I will admit there is no mention of actually becoming the brick - but I have often wondered was it possible....
Last week my brother-in-law passed and was cremated and his ashes placed in a gorgeous urn. It did get me thinking again about being cremated... So, I thought a frog... frogs are cute, and they do make frog urns (pictured above). And, no, I don't know why I thought of a frog...
I was thinking about that during the service for my brother-in-law and had to suppress a smile as I could envision at my memorial service a pair of frog's feet sticking out from the covered urn... This is a work in progress and I believe I will take many, many, many years to figure it out.
My brother-in-law, Robert J. Houk, Jr. passed away last Saturday from complications of diabetes. Bob was born March 3, 1943 in Nashville, Tennessee, the son of Robert J and Christine Houk. During his life time he was involved with airplanes and boats and sold yachts in Florida.
Bob was married to my sister-in-law Carol - in what we all affectionally refer to as the "scrambled limb" of the family tree. My step-daughter Andrea married Robert's son, Robert and it was at that wedding that Carol met the older Robert. They hit it off, fell in love and were married on St. patrick's Day in 1992 in Miami, Flordia. At times it has been confusing.... Carol is not only Andrea's Aunt, but also her mother-in-law, and step-mother. Her husband Robert is also her step-brother and 1st cousin - my gawd it gets confusing... Adding to the confusion at family gathering is the fact that I am also Robert, and I have another son-in-law who is also Robert. We have all become known as, "Helen's Robert", "Andrea's Robert", "Carol's Robert", and "Jennifer's Robert."
We will miss "Carol's Robert."
While I was in high school I lived a bit on the "wild side" - not scarey wild, like murder and mayhem, but more curious wild, like what would happen if I put a cherry bomb in a toilet. The rest of this story will be told as an observer...
There were 2 young men in high school. One of the young men (not me) had recently acquired something that resembled marijuana (again, not me, really!!). This young man invited his friend (possibly me) to partake in smoking this "stuff". So off they went with their product under the front seat of their vehicle in search of a place of solitude.
Then it happened... they were pulled over by a policeman. He was the local guy and was pulling them over just to "chat' - no violation, no speeding, no stop sign blown, no tale light out - just wanted to visit. He had no idea...
This story took place in the 1960s when the laws were severe. The two young men were scared to death... their lives flashed in front of their eyes and they had visions of being bent over a bunk in prision being violated...so scared they didn't even touch the stuff.
The next stop - one of the young men borrowed a tupperware bowl from his mother and they put their stash in it, went into the woods and buried it. End of story.
I ocassionly wonder if that had been me and I had taken a piece of my mother's tupperware she always put her name on the bottom of her containers in red (sometimes pink) nail polish. If that container ever got dug up - I wonder if my mother would have received a visit from the authorities? M-m-m-m- good thing it wasn't me.
While I was growing up my mother lost a lot of tupperware - not because of anything she did, but because she had a son - me.
My friends and I were deeply involved in playing "cowboys and indians" and while we were in the woods with our bows and arrows we stumbled across a beaver - a real beaver, flat tail and all. Before I continue I wish to apologize for what we did...
We knew that indians hunted with their bows and arrows, so we hunted the beaver. It must have taken us 4 hours to kill the beaver with our target bows and arrows but he did eventually succumb. We had it in our heads that indians used the entire animal, pelt, tail, etc. So,...(again I aplogize... ) we cut off the tail and feet. We had no idea about skinning and pelts, so we left the woods with only the tail and feet. Since we didn't know what we were going to do with with them we (I) borrowed one of my mother's tupperware bowls and stored our beaver on the back porch.
We then went on to playing "detective" and forgot about the beaver - until 6 months later when our beaver was discovered by my mother. My memory fades quickly after that... I do remember a few unpleasentries... however, if you ever want to store dead beaver parts, I highly recommend tupperware as the container of choice.
I have recently met and made a new friend and I have been sharing stories. I used to be a bit embarrassed by the story I am about to tell, but, hey it's part of who I am... I thought I had this story on this blog, but it's not here, but on another website, so here it is - for those who haven't heard it..
It’s been nearly 40 years since I graduated from High School and I suppose I’m like a lot of people who ponder the life I’ve lived, the choices I’ve made, and the lessons I’ve learned. Upon reflection – one of Life’s Lessons I learned is that we are never aware of the ramifications of the choices we make in life, because we simply cannot see into the future. To illustrate...
After graduation, I decided that I was going to attend a private school (name not released in case they’re still mad at me – as you will learn), one which was expensive, and perhaps out of my reach financially. I was going to be a theatre major, get a fine arts degree, go to New York and then on to Hollywood, fame and fortune. I ignored the advice of my parents, who suggested that a junior college closer to home, would be a better choice. To heck with parental advice, I was now an adult! I went to the private school, majored in theatre, and was prepared to make my mark on the world.
Trouble started almost immediately when I rebelled against taking a “regular” gym class. I thought I was done with that ... I ended up signing up for ballet – something recommended by my counselor. Ballet didn’t turn out too bad – it was a class filled with 10 women and 2 men. This fed right into my other majors in college, wine and women. I excelled...
One Friday evening, while I was studying the “wine” part of my education, I ended up consuming an excessive amount of vodka. This led to my acquiring a box of Tide; why, I have no idea, but I found myself standing in front of the college’s very colorful fountain. There were water sprays, and different colored lights – it was so inviting.
I discovered that an entire box of Tide makes a nifty bubble bath – it was a warm evening, the bubbles were inviting, so, I stripped down and jumped in ... most would think that this was my biggest mistake, but no! After my nice bubble bath, I walked around campus au naturel and introduced myself to the couples who were sitting on the benches. This was still not my biggest mistake!
The biggest mistake came when I introduced myself to the local campus security person. That was the mistake that changed my life.
He invited me, okay, took me, to his office and called the local police. To my good fortune, the policeman who showed up was the brother of a friend of mine, so he escorted me back to the dorms with the admonition about never, ever, doing something that stupid again.
Little did I know that my “bath” would affect the entire rest of my life. It was 1970, and the school authorities invited me to leave the school. As a result, I lost my student deferment from the draft. It wasn’t too long before I won the only lottery I ever won – the draft lottery! I was drafted, but I fooled them -- I joined the Navy.
That one bubble bath, that one moment, that one box of Tide, put me on a path which saw me completing 30 years in the Navy – who knew?!
As I was unpacking from our shopping trip to Hobby Lobby I asked my wife what she was going to use this cute little plate holder, easel for? She said, That's not mine. You got that."
"No I didn't.."
"Yes, you did 'cause I didn't."
"I didn't, and if you didn't who did?"
She thought a minute, "I bet it was that lady standing next to me and she put it in our basket."
Guess we now have a new "mini-easel".
At least there was NO ASSEMBLY required...
Those who really know me are aware of my mechanical abilities (they suck). I feel comfortable inside your computer, but "some assembly required" scares the bejeebers out of me. At any rate, I've been looking for a simple easel and found one at Hobby Lobby. It also said, "assembly required", but really, how tough could an easel be?
We got the easel home, opened the package and looked for directions. Directions? Where are the directions? Perhaps they're printed on the back of the label? No - there are NO directions. So, if anybody else buys this product and discovers there are no directions, here are a few hints...
#1 - lay the legs on the floor. Each leg consists of 2 parts. The with the "cap" on it is the bottom. Place the parts so that the round part is facing toward you and and the "little shelf" it makes is also in front. Do this 3 times... (3 legs).
Assembly the legs and then using a longer screw hook them together as illustrated in the above photo.
What comes next took a while and I had to call upon an engineer's daughter (my wife) to assist in figuring this out. She also excels at putting together puzzels where puzzles give me a headache. At any rate, we had 2 pieces of wood left - each with a hole in the middle. We tried to line up those holes every which way with no success and then - we (she) discovered that the two pieces that form the shelf are placed on the outside of the legs and the other one behind the legs. Then you use the long bolt "thingy" (technical term) with the loop at the end to connect the two pieces together and you then clip the chain to the loop as seen in the next 2 illustrations.
My wife and I go to an Episcopal Church and we have a young priest who is serving the parish. We really love his enthusiam and energy. He races in triathalons - something I can't even imagine. My triathalon would consist of trying to eat ice cream, chocolate brownies and a cheesburger at the same time...
At any rate the following conversation was heard in church a couple of weeks ago:
The priests wife was trying to reason with a rather talkative 3 year old, "Be quiet...stop talking we're in church."
"Daddy's talking..."
"Daddy's the priest..., now sh-h-h-"
A couple of minutes later the reasoning went out to the hallway where I assume reason prevailed. Some people seemed to be be bothered if kids make noises in church, but they are the life blood of any church or organization. They are curious, filled with love and enthusiam, and brighten most everybody's day. So, if the 3 year old wants to start preaching early, I say go for it!!
Life is weird sometimes and every now and then throws a curve, provides a bit of information about the past and teases you with the future. This week has had all of those elements.
The Present: I took a photo Wednesday night http://rallenhillproject365.blogspot.com/2009/03/cross.html that shows the beauty of this planet on which we live.
The Past: During my senior year in high school in Iowa Falls, Iowa, the local Junior College, Ellsworth College put on a musical, the name escapes me at the moment, however one of the leads was a young black man, Bob Tate, who had a gorgeous tenor voice. Through the theatre program at the high school I had the opportunity to meet him, and we became friends of sort. One day, I called my Mom and asked if I could bring a friend home for supper. No problem. We walked in and I could see the shock in my folk’s face, or a least my Dad, who evidently had some pre-conceived racial ideas. It was tense all through supper. Bob then noticed the piano in the living room and asked if he could play. My Dad (reluctantly) agreed. You could see my Dad’s attitude and demeanor change as Bob played the piano. He made those keys sing... My Dad, also a tenor and a pianist, was put at ease and the rest of the night was spent singing around the piano.
Over the years I have often wondered what ever happened to Bob Tate after he left Iowa Falls. I knew he was from Waterloo, but never made a effort to find out. There was always next week.
This week I ran out of next weeks. His obituary was in the paper this week. He was 62 and had spent his life as a church musician. I regret not looking him up. He was instrumental in changing my Dad’s attitude about race (I have another story to tell about that – but that will have to be at a later time). He was also a friend to me.
What did I learn this week? - don't wait until next week to tell someone you appreciate what they do, who they are and that you care for them. There just may not be a next week...
The Curve and the Future: Let's just say, for the moment, "Life is interesting!"
The seminar I attended yesterday was filled with information. I love to attend these as you meet people with the same interests (and the same toys). I picked up some suggestions and ideas, and even learned of some additional capabilities of my camera. It was a day well spent.
As a side note: The Canon Guy has the perfect job - he gets to play with the newest, the best, and most expensive camera equipment!!! I had some serious lens envy going...
I'm going to a Canon Discovery today in Cedar Rapids. (I got up in plenty of time [5:12 AM]). PhotoPro, a camera store in Cedar Rapids is sponsoring the day and it sounds interesting. It is a day of discovery of your camera. There are tons of options in the camera, and I know I don't come close to using the camera to the fullest extent I can.
There is a school of thought that says post processing should be kept at a minimum (working with Photoshop or other editing programs). As a matter of fact in photographic competitions there are rules regarding post processing. Photographers may perform enhancements and modifications of the image that could have been done at the time the image was taken, but that do not change the original truth of the image, e.g. cropping, and flipping the image are acceptable, adding or removing elements is not.
All major brand DSLR's have picture style settings that control color, contrast, sharpness, and saturation. And, all of these can be done in the camera. What I want to learn today is more about controlling the image in the camera with limited post picture taking processing. There are times when you need to "fix" a picture. I have frequently had only seconds to take a picture of a moving subject or the "right moment" before it was gone. there was no time to "tune" the camera to all of the appropriate setting of ISO, aperture, or picture style. It was a shoot right NOW moment or miss it. In that case, a little post processing is OK.
In competitions there should be a creative category where you can process all you want - and I like that category also.
Imagine for a moment that you wake up - there's a nip in the air as the temperature outside hovers near zero. You are looking forward to that hot shower to not only take the chill off, but to warm you up and get the blood flowing - only to discover that sometime in the middle of the night the hot water heater died.
It had been a good hot water heater, faithful in performing its duties of providing hot water for the household for at least 20 years. It shall be missed...
I don't know what it is about my basement these days - clogged drain, dead sump pump, flood, and now the water heater. The furnace was replaced a couple of years ago so we're OK there... I won't say anything about the washer and dryer (shhhhhh)...
I'll be home awhile today as the plumbers can't pinpoint a time other than, "...between the hours of 8:00 and Noon...maybe early afternoon." Here I am...
Well, late morning didn't work...here's hoping early afternoon will...
1:23 PM Plumber guy is here...
2:45 PM New water Heater has joined the family - here's to a LONG and HEALTHY life...
Another early morning - it seems that my internal alarm clock is outa wack and frequently goes off at weird hours - like "I'm awake now!!" On the plus side I'm getting a lot more done each day - on the down side - my internal engine shuts down quickly about 10:00 PM or so each nite. So I'm inclined to think it's a blessing - perhaps next time I'll actually go to the grocery store in the wee hours and see who else is up?!?
A Winter snow melt can be a good thing, OR, it can combine with other events and cause a perfect storm.
I was looking for a picture and couldn't find what I was looking for so I decided to look in the basement. When I got to the foot of the stairs it became readily apparent that we had a problem, as there was a puddle of water at the foot of the steps. We typically don't have a puddle at the foot of the stairs so that's how I perceived we had a problem. I took a couple of more steps into the basement and discovered, not a puddle, but a lake (no fish). My first thought was that since we had just gotten a humidifier added to the furnace perhaps the water line broke. No, m-m-m-m-m, that wasn't it. Then, perhaps the water heater finally gave it up...no, that wasn't it either. I investigated the area of the basement where the sump pump is and discovered the deep end of the lake.
It seems that not only did the sump pump fail, but the drain in the basement also decided it was time to stop working...and the water started filling the basement. Since there was nothing we could do until morning we went to bed hoping the water didn't get worse (deeper). It didn't - it was lower in the morning. We called the Roto Rooter guy and he came and cleaned the drain and the plumber came and replaced the sump pump. So, all that is left is the mess and we're dealing with that...
When my wife called the plumber to schedule a visit she told him that her husband was not handy, but thought we needed a new sump pump. He then asked if I had "jiggled this" or "moved that"... to which she replied, "my husband is not handy that way (true), but if you want a picture taken of the sump pump it would be the best picture ever." (she's a fan of my photography) I think the plumber thought she was insulting me (she wasn't as I am not mechanically inclined) and he wanted to defend a fellow guy... At any rate - I was right we needed a new sump pump.
I couldn't stay home and help with the mess as I had a meeting I had to go to in Des Moines. My mood was not the best as I traveled. I stopped at a rest stop and as I was walking back to the car a $20 bill blew under my foot. My mood perked right up... there was nobody around, so I thank whoever lost it for my evening meal... Too bad it wasn't a couple of $100 bills I could give the plumber.
Every now and then I get an overwhelming nostalgic feeling and miss the Navy. Tonight the feeling came to me while I was walking on a treadmill during one of my 3 times a week workout. I know it's strange...but, some of my fondness memories are when a group of us would gather either before work (6:00 AM [the Navy always has to do stuff before dawn]) or during the afternoon and run physical training. I was never athletic and the run was always a challenge for me, but there were shipmates who stepped up and provided me with motivation and encouragement. Tonight I thought of Ralph, Ray, CDR R., CDR H., Tony, Lisa and others who ran with me.
Strange how time deals with memories - at the time I swore I hated every step of the run, but looking back - it wasn't too bad and the commaraderie made the memory. Thanks all...
PS I've been on the workout plan for 4 weeks and it is getting easier, I have lost 5 lbs and am close to dropping down a waist size...
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